


Tefillot

by Trekkele



Series: VaYehi [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Allusions to Tarsus IV, F/M, Gen, Jewish Character, Jewish James T. Kirk, Jewish Spock (Star Trek), Slice of Life, anti-semitism (mentioned and past), as in you know why he's like this but no one else does, illogical fears, possible mckirk preslash, starships are full of gossip, that is an actual plot point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 16:58:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16329998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trekkele/pseuds/Trekkele
Summary: Every starship Captain has their quirks.This is less about Kirks, and more about what lies at the heart of it.In which Jim has his secrets, McCoy is overprotective, the crew learns something new, and Spock is curious. Of course he is.





	Tefillot

**Author's Note:**

> This story is fairly important to me, and so I'm going to ask that you be nice. I tried tagging it as simply and accurately as possible, so if I missed something important/necessary please let me know.  
> This story was supposed to go in a complete different direction, but every time I tried writing it it wouldn't work. Finally I realized that's because the ending I wanted would be a different story entirely, and here we are.

Every starship Captain has their quirks.

 

Take Christopher Pike, for example. Over the years his crew has noted some odd, if harmless instances of these “ _quirks_ ”, such as: An unhealthy love of puns, the peculiar habit of drinking tea in the mornings and coffee at night, and (his most troublesome), the habit of adopting “strays”.

Of course, he also has an impeccable eye for talent, so StarFleet Command has collectively decided to forgive him for that.

(Except the Gorn. They drew the line at the Gorn)

 

Considering the stories some crews exchanged, about Captains who insisted reports be audio as well as written, or Captains who banned any and all coffee on the bridge, Captain Pikes oddities had been almost … endearing, over time.

 

So when James Kirk was awarded his captaincy, it didn't take very long for the rumors to start. _What_ these rumors consisted of was a bit more telling than most of the crew realized. After all, one would think these rumors would involve more scandal then _formed a study club out of the professors mess_ , or _fell asleep in the cafeteria_. Most rumors of his time before command dealt with his academy exploits, and had long since lost their novelty.

But it seemed as though the crew, despite the concentrated efforts of five hundred and twenty-three of the brightest minds StarFleet had to offer, could not figure out what his “quirks” _were_.

 

Which was fine, as he had been captain for little more than four weeks, and that was including the time it took to get back to earth. But still, the crew insisted, _someone_ must have noticed _something_.

 

And despite the pooling of resources and almost three years of attending the academy with James T. Kirk, no one seemed to find anything appropriately strange.

 

According to the science department, most people noticed how he greeted every crewmember by name. Which was both impressive and slightly intimidating, as it meant he had put time and effort into knowing five hundred and twenty three names and faces before shipping out, but still not off-putting enough to be considered worthy of the title: _quirk_.

Communications (without involving Lt. Nyota Uhura, whom they all loved and feared in equal measure) said he made an effort to take lunch with different groups daily, and to speak to crewmembers privately on a bi-weekly basis. Again, within the realm of “normal”, if incredibly attentive.

(HR teams across ships collectively gave a longing sigh when the Enterprise HR Department spoke of their Captain, and the interdepartmental relations he was helping bridge.)

Engineering had noticed that he and Lt. Uhura tried to ( _at the very least_ ) greet everyone in their native tongues, which was impressive, terrifying, and definitely part of an ongoing bet between the two of them.

(Lt. Gaila Vro had mentioned this, but refused to divulge the specifics or origins or even existence of such a bet. The suggestion, however, always caused her to break into bright peals of laughter.)

 

Perhaps it is simply that nothing is considered strange if presented with enough charm.

 

What is amusing, if one noticed these things, is that the most obvious (at least in Spocks opinion) was the one which no one seemed to notice. And Spock most certainly did not put any effort into correcting that.

The Captain started every Alpha shift in his ready room.

 

Each time the he was on Alpha shift, Captain Kirk arrived fifteen minutes early, coffee and padd in hand, and went directly to his ready room. He would emerge, fifteen minutes later, and relieve his Gamma shift officer, _exactly_ on time to begin his shift.

 

Most people didn’t notice it. Those who did figured it was a one time thing. Spock did not.

 

Over time he began noticing other details about the Captain’s pre-shift habits.

 

He would, as mentioned, arrive precisely fifteen minutes before the shift, a habit Spock noticed only because, needing less sleep than the humans on board, he used the time before Alpha to review reports from the Beta and Gamma science shifts.

 

While he always arrived impeccably dressed, not a hair out of place, (a habit he once thought unlikely, given his first [and second, and third] impressions of his Captain), when he eventually emerged from his ready room, he looked as though he had run his fingers through his hair several times, and the sleeves of his command gold were crumpled, as though he had worn them folded up to his elbow as Dr. McCoy preferred.

 

He blamed Nyota and her teasing love of Starship ~~gossip~~ socializing for his sudden interest in _any_ of the Captains possibly strange habits.

 

And while the Captain always arrived in the same early manner for his Alpha shifts, so far Spock had observed no such behavior for any of his Beta or Gamma shifts, of which he took several on a monthly basis. Having the Captain serve the B and G shifts, as they were colloquially known, ensured that he was always aware of how his ship ran at any time. He also had the habit of doing “walkthroughs”, during which he would visit any random (or so it seemed) department during an “off shift” and spend time reviewing the experiments or discussing the department developments with any officer he came across - whether they were an ensign or a commander apparently held no significance to him, and he had once spent two hours discussing computer code with a group of ensigns who spent nearly half of that time battling a faint sense of hero worship. The other half, rumor says, they almost always forgot themselves and called their Captain “Jim”.

 

Of course, while it did take them more time then he originally expected, they are the “brightest minds StarFleet has to offer”. Or so Nyota (and the Captain) keep reassuring him.

 

In all, it takes almost four months into their mission for the bridge crew to notice Captain Kirk’s habit. It takes another month for them to confirm he only does this for Alpha shift.

 

In that time, Spock observes how the Gamma shift crew spent 83.5% more of those specific fifteen minutes facing the ready room door, compared to the time before they had made this collective observation that the Captain was indeed there (and had always been there), on every Alpha shift he served.

 

He contemplates pointing this out to them, but finds the combination of their lack of concern (at his presence) and their burning curiosity (at the Captains habits) harmlessly amusing.

 

He must be spending too much time working. After all, he admits he is also curious. He thinks his mother will be very pleased should he tell her of this. He silently vows to never do so.

 

(He knows that Nyota probably will. He knows that she speaks to his mother more often now that her health has improved. It is logical to find pleasure in this, that his mother and lover and sister get along so well. That they have accepted each other into their lives with barely a ripple. He only wishes she and Amanda and Michael would not so often use the opportunity to laugh over what they claim is _“the Vulcans dedication to hiding the emotions they insist they do not have.”_ But he does derive a certain enjoyment from hearing about these conversations. Perhaps it is the way they have decided to _choose_ one another's company, apart from times when he or Sarek are there.

Sarek, for his part, has been far too amused by their antics.)

 

Of course, the crews speculations about their captains habits turns from innocent to cutting to completely ridiculous and back to innocent in an instant, so much that he requires Nyota’s help with keeping track of the rampant speculations. All part of being a first officer he assures her, although he is certain that she knows that he is … bending the truth. A small amount, surely, but still.

Nyota does get a bit worried when the rumors inevitably turn mocking, but Spock finds himself continually impressed with the Captain dedication to his position and his willingness to take advice from wherever he believes it useful.

 

Kirk has, with startling regularity, had meetings with the department heads to better understand the experiments they are running and resources they request. He has a standing appointment to speak with both Admiral Pike, Commander Kirk, and several other captains and Admirals he knows from his youth aboard several starships. He frequently will hold off on making a decision until he can consult the division of which the decision would affect most.

 

Nyota laughs after he addresses this opinion to her during one of their meals in the mess.

 

“Why Spock,” she reaches over to pour more juice into her cup, “if I were a different woman, and if I trusted Kirk less, I would start getting worried over your little crush.” Her moon-dark eyes twinkled over her cup in a way that still fascinated him.

 

“While I am fully capable of admitting that the Captain is a singularly attractive individual, I have found that I do prefer my lovers dark.” She laughed, a clear and bright sound that often caused half her department to sigh longingly. She had been the one who wondered what the Vulcan equivalent word for their relationship would be, as this kind of prolonged and spontaneous courtship normally would not occur on his homeworld. The closest he had been able to offer at the time had been “lover”, a term he continued using only because of the laughter it generated. He was as of yet uncertain why. He suspects it was the dry, properly unemotional tone of voice he delivered it in.

Dry wit was that which his father excelled at and he had learned cutting sarcasm at his mother's knees.

 

“And were I jealous man, I have no doubt most of the communications department would be transferred immediately.” His lips curved ever so slightly, “and that would be shame, given how you handpicked each of them with our Captain.”

 

Nyota was still snickering quietly into her pasta and salad when the Dr. McCoy asked to join them. The good doctor, while certainly capable and highly intelligent, still had what Nyota classified as a slight “grudge”. Spock does not blame him for this.

However, he had informed her that Vulcans do not carry grudges as they are highly illogical and could interfere with their work. Uhura had stared at him in silence for approximately 3.36 minutes and than startled, exclaiming, _Oh, was I meant to take that seriously?!._ He admits, if only to himself, that their humor is as compatible as the rest of them.

 

Regardless, the doctor is in a fairly lighthearted mood today, since no one in engineering has harmed themselves in any ridiculous manner, although his shift is still far from over. He idly wonders whether or not Dr. McCoy is aware of the betting ring Mr.s Sulu and Chekov have been running from rec room four. He does know that Christine Chapel and Geoffrey M’Benga have standing bets regarding his and the Captains’ relationship, so he assumes that not.

 

He does not believe it necessary to inform him.

 

( _It is logical_ , he informed the Captain several weeks prior, _to allow the crew some small ways in which they may rebel and relieve stress while on board. It is, after all, harmless._

 

 _I do agree Mr. Spock. But please remind them to keep all the bets respectful_ , Captain Kirk had said, _And the still should never be less than three decks away from engineering_ , he added, grinning.)

 

McCoy sat down across from Spock and poked at his lasagna with a fork. Whatever he saw apparently met to his standards as he took a bite and swallowed, turning to face Nyota.

 

“So what were y’all discussing before I so rudely interrupted?” He said grinning in a way that, oddly enough, reminded Spock of the Captain. Perhaps he should place that bet after all.

 

“Oh, you know, reports, family, ships gossip”, Nyota swung around to face him properly, smirking and eyeing Spock in a way he recognized very well.

“ _Gossiping_ ?,” The Dr. said around another spoonful. “Well while _I_ can appreciate that, being from the south proper and all, I was also under the distinct impression that Vulcans _Do Not_ Gossip.” At this, both McCoy and Uhura turn to face him with a very human look on their faces. He had spent enough time among them now to know this was nothing but light-hearted teasing.

 

“We do not, Doctor,” He replied calmly, ripping another piece off his butter roll. “But perhaps you could help us with this particular question.” Nyota’s eyes widened slightly and she frowned across the table at him “I'm not sure that’s a good idea Spock - “

 

“Nonsense”, the doctor said, waving his hand as though he was waving her concerns away. “I’d be glad to help. Although I can't imagine what use I would be if a _Vulcan_ can’t help you, Miss Uhura.”

 

At some point, McCoy and Uhura had become more than just "friendly", a fact he found far less confusing then Uhura’s long-standing friendship with the Captain.

 

He waited until the doctor finished smirking and had taken another spoon into his mouth, as he did not wish to be interrupted again.

 

“As I’m sure you’ve noticed, the Captain spends fifteen minutes before Alpha shift in his ready room. He has done so consistently, and despite their best efforts, much of the crew has not, as of yet, found a reason behind his actions.”

 

The doctor paused briefly over his plate and swallowed. “I don’t”, he stated, sounding colder than Spock had ever presumed him capable of, “See how that’s anyone's business.”

 

While he had not expected this from McCoy, he was inclined to agree. While he would admit to being curious, if only faintly so, the Captains behavior was effecting no one, and so could not possibly be something he needed to pursue. He wondered if the doctor even knew, or if he was as curious as the rest of the them.

 

“Quite so doctor. Has the new shipment of vaccines arrived? I believe Dr M’Benga mentioned them to Lt. Cmndr. Scott again.”

 

While the subject turned swiftly to duty once more, Nyota kept a small crease between her eyes, which meant she was concerned by the doctors reaction. While the Captains habits were his own business, apparently they were private enough that McCoy, always loyal to the Captain, felt protective of them.

 

Curious, but not unexpected.

 

Of course, none of them could have predicted what actually gave them their answers. In general, no one tried to predict a level three red alert five minutes before the beginning of Alpha Shift. While it did make their shifts infinitely more interesting, it simply _isn't_ worth the paperwork.

 

* * *

 

Through no fault of it’s own, Gamma shift is generally the quietest shift aboard a StarShip. There is no logical explanation for it, it is something which inexplicably lines up with the crew members expectations of what a “night shift” should consist of. More than one psychiatrist has theorized that is precisely _why_ it is often the quietest shift, but that still does not explain why majority of red alerts take place during the Alpha shift - 74.3%, to be precise.

 

Of course, occasionally an emergency takes place during a shift change, at which time every StarFleet officer thanks those deities they deem appropriate for the extensive training given for precisely this situation at the academy.

 

Which brings us to the end of Gamma Shift, Captain Kirk strolling onto the bridge, padd, coffee, a blinding smile and cheerful greeting for each officer he passes. The crew, who have at this point been thoroughly charmed by their Captain and his terrifying faith in their abilities, all return his greeting with similar aplomb, despite the late hour for many of them.

 

Spock returns his greeting with a nod and a lift of his eyebrow. Vulcans do not smile. He suspects his Captain understands the differences in their physiology well enough to understand that slight misconception now.

 

_(Your species has single handedly convinced the galaxy that they have both no emotions and no concept of humor, whatsoever. I’d say it was more then a slight misunderstanding, Spock.)_

 

It is precisely five minutes and thirty seconds after the Captain entered his ready room that the proximity alert goes off.

 

While Vulcans do have superior hearing, the Security Klaxons have been designed to sound at such a frequency that they are not overwhelmingly distracting for any specific species. StarFleet is nothing if not judicious in its efforts to diversify their members. However, the blaring red lights and alarms must be disconcerting for anyone who is coming off an eight hour shift, however calm it must have been. Thankfully, the senior bridge crew appears to have been in the “break room” down the hall, and Sulu, Chekov, and Uhura all come rushing in just as three Cardassian Destroyers appear on the view screen.

 

“Shields on full, load phasers, I want every deck on lockdown and ready for evasive maneuvers!”

 

Captain Kirk rushes onto the bridge, orders already falling from his mouth even as the entire bridge pauses, if only for the fraction of a second, to stare at their Captain.

 

Spock is very suddenly reminded of his earliest memories with his mother's human family, loud and tumbling and completely unbothered by his vulcanhood, caring only that they are family. Memories of sneaking into his grandfather's study, watching as he wrapped the leather straps around his forearm in the early morning, humming songs almost older than Surak as he swayed, tallit and kippah blinding white against the greying of his honey dark hair.

 

Kirk looks very much the same, tallit white and uniform gold and navy blue, eyes a startling contrast against the black leather of the straps on his arms and the single box perched on his head.

 

Barking orders to the already frantic bridge, he looks, without exaggeration or fanciful metaphor on Spock's part, like the kings of old his mother would tell him about. David, riding out against his enemies - giants and monsters and errant sons. Solomon, opening the gates to the temple his father never saw.

Shaul, and Moses, and James Kirk; carrying those same traditions to the stars.

 

Thankfully the crew’s innate professionalism springs to the forefront and they all, despite the obvious confusion many of them are projecting, begin doing as ordered.

 

The incident was over in minutes, the Cardassians successfully incapacitated and avoided, the Enterprise well on its way to established Federation territory to assess what Spock believed to be minimal damage.

Captain Kirk was off the bridge so fast they could almost doubt he had ever been there.

 

* * *

 

“I’m not the only one who saw that, right?” Lieutenant Me’Ater, currently sitting at the secondary navigation console, spun around to face the rest of the bridge crew.

 

“You mean the Captain?”

 

“I think we all saw that.”

 

“Was that some kind of human ritual no one told me about?” The Lieutenant clicked her tongue and scanned the bridge for any one who looked less confused then she did.

 

“I didn’t know the Captain was Jewish.” Spock was not surprised Sulu was familiar with a Tallit and Tefillin. San Francisco was well known for its ... variety of cultures, human and alien. He believed the Terran term was “melting pot”, a metaphor he had no trouble understanding when he first saw an Andorian in Buddhist robes.

 

It was Uhura, oddly enough, that reminded the bridge crew that “Now is neither the time or place to be gossiping over the captains religion or habits.”

However, Spock found himself almost unbearably curious. And distracted by the insistent beeping from the various alarms notifying him of the sections where shielding was down.

 

There would be time to speak to the captain later.

 

* * *

 

Apparently not.

 

After spending almost thirty five minutes in his ready room, the Captain strolled back onto the bridge with the sort of forced nonchalance that Uhura had pointed out to him several times. Captain Kirk’s face was a study in the very Vulcan ability to hide all emotions when under great stress, and Spock wondered whether the captain knew he was doing it, or if this was some new reaction to the few minutes of frantic violence they had encountered before.

 

“Sulu, Chekov report, where are we and what’s closest to us now?” Abrupt, almost angry, the captain requested reports from every station on the bridge, cutting off any officer before they could ask a question, related to the … incident, or not.

And after receiving all relevant reports, he lifted himself from the chair and rapidly made his exit. “I’m heading down to engineering, see if there's any significant damage there. Mr. Spock you have the conn,” his only parting.

No remarks on how they should “try not to miss me”, no light teasing of Chekov and Sulu to concentrate on their work and not get distracted by their “campaign plans”, No smirking at Uhura and “apologies for leaving you to babysit these children, Lieutenant.”

(The captain had a long standing joke with Nyota about how she and Dr. Chapel were the only responsible adults on board, and how even that was debatable. Spock was inclined to agree with the assessment.)

 

Spock had found himself, over time, getting used to the Captains style - of trusting his crew wholly and using humor and understanding over the more ... traditional methods of discipline other captains favored. It had taken a number of weeks, but as Admiral Pike had advised, he had become almost fond of Kirks open handed captaincy. He also found it improved the crews efficiency by almost 5% of the expected amounts.

This sudden departure from that troubled him. He met Uhura's eyes from across her station. Clearly he was not the only one unsettled by the Captains sudden shift in behavior.

 

* * *

 

As usual, it was the doctor, loud and irascible and far to compassionate for a man who claimed so often to be annoyed by _everyone_ , that cleared things up. Spock was beginning to understand how the captain and the doctor got along so well.

 

Their relationship confused him at times. It seemed they balanced the spaces between brother and lover with an ease that defied most definitions, and Spock found himself envious of the simple trust they displayed almost unconsciously - teasing and arguing and poking the proverbial bears as often as necessary for the others health and well being. Consequently, he found himself contacting Michael far more often then he had. It was a circumstance they both enjoyed.

 

Captain Kirk rarely dined in the officers mess, prefering to sit in the main eating area and engage with his crew on as many levels possible, but today Spock had found no trace of him, or the general light hearted attitude and high moral that accompanied his presence off-shift.

 

Dr McCoy, however, was making his way to their table, chatting with Dr. Christine Chapel while waving his coffee mug around.

He hoped for all their sakes he wouldn’t spill it.

 

Christine noticed the table, Uhura, Sulu, Chekov and himself seated at one of the view ports and gently steered him over while listening to his conversation. Spock wondered idly if the doctor even noticed the change of direction.

 

With the doctor finally seated, it does not take long for someone to bring it up. Oddly enough, it’s Chekov, bright eyed and far sharper then they give him credit for.

 

“Doctor, did you know the Captain is Jewish? And he prays daily in his ready room?” A rhetorical question, no doubt. They had been roomates at the academy, surely the doctor had been privy to the captains habits.

The doctor, to his credit, pauses only slightly before turning back to his tray. “What of it?” he says gruffly, apprehension and something like anger bubbling below the surface. Even across the table Spock can feel the shift in his mood.

 

Sulu shrugs. “Well, no one even knew the captain was Jewish. And now that we do now, he’s been acting all … weird.”

“And you want my, what? Opinion? Diagnosis?” Dr. McCoy interrupts.

 

“Well,” Chekov says, thinking through his answer. “Yes. I heff not seen the Captain like zhis, not even at the academy - ” McCoy grunts, muttering “you weren't paying attention kid,” while Chekov pushes onward. “ - and we vant to know what to do. The bridge is … uncomfortable with him like zhis.”

 

McCoy looks at them, hazel eyes sharper then Spock has seen them in recent weeks.

“Don't mention it.” He said shortly. “Don't bring it up, don't confront him, don’t mention your aunts doctors golf partner is jewish so maybe you know him. This isn't something he talks about and unless he brings it up, neither should you.”

 

The doctor looks around at their faces and frowns, pushing his tray away from him and leaning both elbows on the table. “Will this be a problem?” the frown deepens, and his tone turns mocking, almost cruel. “Does it _bother_ you?”

 

Nyota looks at the doctor, eyes narrowed and mouth an angry press across her face. “Do you really think so low of us, Leonard? Is that really something you think he needs to be worried about?” she asks archly, fury bubbling below the surface. Spock does not think it is directed at the doctor, not really.

 

Dr. McCoy meets her gaze from across the table, solemn and un-amused by her attempt at sarcasm. “If it doesn't bother you than _why does it matter_? Let it go, then.”

 

She purses her lips, eyes lowered to the table. “It doesn't _bother_ me”, she insists. “It doesn't bother any of us. It’s just -” She sighs, tossing her hair over her shoulder in a gesture Spock recognizes from her linguistic debates. “It’s obviously something that's important to him, why didn't he _tell_ us? And he must have know the crew was gossiping, why not just clear it up?”

 

“That's a good point.” Sulu continues, Chekhov's curls bouncing along in agreement. “It’s not like we've never discussed family, or holidays, or stuff we did growing up. And none of us - we’ve never given him a reason _not_ to tell us.” He turns to McCoy. “Have we?”

 

The doctor sighs, rubs the back of his head. “No”, he admits, “And if any of you would have asked, he probably would have told you. It might have scared the hell -” he grimaces, clearly thinking he’s said to much. “Look, this is something you're going to have to accept. Leave it be.”

 

Chekov shrugs, reaching over and stealing a fry off the doctors plate. “Da, we can do zhat.” He munches on his stolen food, ignoring the doctors good natured grumbling. “But will you at least tell zhe captain not to worry?”

 

“No,” the Doctor says “you will. By acting as though it never happened. Treat him _exactly_ the same and the crew will follow suit.  And then he’ll go back to normal. Trust me in this.”

 

Spock waits for the conversation to change, for everyone to pack up their trays and make their way back onto the bridge for the rest of their shift. He catches Uhura's eye and nods for her to go on ahead.

 

Turning to Dr McCoy, he subconsciously lowers his voice and leans slightly in. “Doctor, you are aware that my mother is Jewish.”

The doctor stares at him for a moment, silently calculating something Spock is not sure he understands. Yet.  “Yes.”

 

“And I assume then, that the captain is aware?” The doctor glances at the ceiling, although what clarity he hopes to gain from there Spock is uncertain. “Yes, Mr. Spock, but you do understand that has nothing to do with Jim's - the captains - … _attitude_ toward this.”

 

“...I see.” He does not.

 

“No, you don’t Mr. Spock.” the doctor sighs. “And trust me, you're better off like this.”

 

Sometimes, he learns to appreciate the seeming _nonsense_ his crewmates utter as though they are pearls of wisdom. Sometimes they are just nonsense.

Mostly they fall in a nebulous area between.

 

However, when it comes to the Captain, when it comes to understanding Jim Kirk, Spock finds it is simply better to listen to the Doctor and hope it is enough. It usually is.

 

* * *

 

In the weeks that followed, nothing of remarkable importance happened. A star mapping mission, a few class M planets in the early stages of development, and some botanical discoveries of medical importance that brought a delighted Dr. Chapel and a marginally less grumpy Dr. McCoy to the labs.

 

The Captain was tense, for a week or so. (2.5 weeks to be exact, which thanks to Nyota’s skill at reading body language, Spock was.)

Slowly the bridge returned to its previous lighthearted professionalism, witty comments and curious findings and anecdotes shared almost as much as the official reports.

He resolved to never tell Admiral Pike how right he had been about Captain Kirk's natural charm and hard-earned ability to bring the best out of a crew. His father, after all, was correct - humans need not be given more opportunities to gloat.

 

That doesn't negate the fact that, for some reason, the captain is completely uncomfortable with any mention of his Jewish heritage. In any context.

 

* * *

 

Spock moves his bishop and glances up at the Captain from behind his lashes. Deep in thought, Kirk does not see him staring and lifts his knight in a move Spock did not predict. But then again he was not paying much attention to the chessboard today.

 

“Captain, you are aware of my mother's Jewish heritage.”

 

There is a slight stiffening to the captains posture, his fingers twitch almost imperceptibly and Spock realized that loving a linguist has taught more about human communication then he would have thought.

 

“Perhaps it is not my place, Captain.” It is not, if this would be an ordinary crew. Or if this would be an ordinary Captain. Spock imagines that on any other ship, this might be considered insubordination. Grounds for removal, if he pushes far enough. But Captain Kirk has encouraged his crew members to, above all, do what they believe is right, orders be damned. He believes this is right, that this something he can _give_. “But did you think so little of this crew?”

 

Kirk looks at him with eyes wide, face completely closed in a way which does not suit him at all. He is used to the Captain - _Jim_ \- being expressive, almost rudely so for the society in which Spock was raised. But the sudden lack of emotion on his face disturbed him. It reminds him of how little he still knows of this man.

 

“That has nothing to do with it.” He snapped. Jim sighs, rubbing his open hand over his eyes.

“Sorry sorry.” Muttering into his palm, his blue eyes shine at Spock. Calculating.

 

“It has nothing to do with what I think if this crew. It is an illogical fear. Something you no doubt have encountered much of in StarFleet, and in humans.”

 

Spock was one of five Vulcans currently on board. The High Command had established that for the mental well being of all Vulcan StarFleet members, groups of five or more were recommended.

They meet twice a month for meditation. They have all, since the start of the mission, shown a marked and growing ... fondness for the spontaneous and often (in their experiences) outrageous behavior of their non-Vulcan crew members.

Spock has tried very hard not to say “I told you so”. He has been known to fail.

 

“If I may Captain, a fear so overwhelming cannot be simply based on random illogic.”

 

Kirk stares at him again, something in his eyes growing cold and dying and sudden fading away as he shook his head.

 

“Someone I once... trusted. Very much. Did not take the news of my... _ethnicity_. Very graciously.”

 

Spock waits, not entirely believing he has gotten this far. He expected one of the Captains famous put downs, the sharp tongue which he has observed on the bridge being turned on _him_ , telling him to mind his own business. He does not believe such a response would have been completely unwarranted.

 

“I was young enough that his opinion...stayed with me. For a very long time. More so, perhaps, his … actions. On the matter.”

 

He thinks the Captain wants to say more but is struggling with the words. He thinks the sinking in the pit of his stomach, growing cold and heavy, is as telling as the righteous anger he once displayed as a child. But it is not his place to feel this way.

Or perhaps, for the all the distance in their makeup and upbringing and _selves_ , the similarities that they have give him more than the right. Perhaps this is a responsibility.

 

“The crew has approached Nyota about a Chanukkah party.” He said simply. Allowing the Captain time to collect himself, he continues while staring at the board again.

“For many of them, Christmas is still too religious, and as _anything_ they choose would be foreign to most of the non-terrans, they thought the themes behind Chanukkah would have more of a… universal appeal.”

 

Kirks gaze is bouncing from him, to the wall behind him, and sliding back down to the chess board.

 

Captain Kirk moves a pawn and breaths in deep. “That sounds like an excellent idea. I'll talk to Uhura in the morning.”

 

The _after I daven_ is silent, and understood. Between them is a heritage as old as the stars, stretching back in twisting gold threads not unlike a Vulcan bond. Spock finds the idea of this common link pleases him more than he thought it would. No doubt more than it would have months ago.

 

“Oh, yes. One other thing.” The Captain smiles. “Shach Maht.”

**Author's Note:**

> "Shach Maht" is Checkmate - the literal translation is "the king is dead". It's ... not quiet Hebrew I think it's actually an arabic slang/loan word.  
> Anti-semitism, racism, sexism, and all forms of bigotry are things I believe majority of humanity has moved past in the federation. That being said, the writers still decided that "eugenics" was the theory which Kodos used to divide the colonists. And Jewish people have never been on the right side of that equation. As a thirteen year old, that kind of betrayal from a mentor, or even just a trusted adult, can have serious repercussions when it comes to trust - and with associating his Jewishness with his self worth (or lack of).  
> And I wondered what it would like to have a tallis-ed and tefillin-ed Kirk on the bridge during a firefight.  
> Thank you for reading!


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